


the second hand unwinds

by mixtapestar



Series: Queliot Week 2020 [2]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: First Dance, Fluff, M/M, Wedding Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:49:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27606536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixtapestar/pseuds/mixtapestar
Summary: Queliot Week Day 2: "We're married."Quentin and Eliot's wedding reception.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Series: Queliot Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017429
Comments: 20
Kudos: 57





	the second hand unwinds

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Rubi for beta reading!

After the ceremony comes the reception, and Eliot hasn't been exaggerating when he's told people it'll be "the biggest party I've ever thrown." The ceremony had been exactly what Quentin wanted, mostly traditional, with a little bit of Eliot's flavor thrown in through his vows. But the reception, that's all Eliot.

Of course, he'd had to hand over the reins to Margo for a great deal of it, by the end. He couldn't be running around putting out fires while he was the one of the stars of the show. But Margo understood what he wanted, and there was no one he trusted more to do this right than her.

So now, as he grips Quentin's hand tight in his and pushes his way into the rented-out winery, he takes a moment to bask in the beauty of it all. It doesn't hurt that a massive cheer goes up a second later, as everyone catches on that the happy couple has entered the building.

The tunnel vision he'd had during the ceremony is gone now, and Eliot is able to appreciate the sight of all the people he cares about, here in one place, celebrating his marriage to the one he cares about most. He shifts his gaze to Quentin, who seems to be having a similar revelation, except it's filling him less with awe and more with nerves, from the looks of it.

"C'mon, this is our show," Eliot encourages, squeezing his hand and pulling him further into the room. Margo is whistling and encouraging everyone to keep up the noise level, which makes Eliot smile, and gives him time to distract Quentin with a thorough kiss.

"Um, wow," Quentin says, eyes lidded as Eliot pulls back. "That was— How long do we have to stay here?"

Eliot laughs delightedly. "Just a little bit longer."

The attention fades away from them as they move further into the room, people turning back to their conversations and food. Eliot takes the opportunity to drag Quentin to the snack table, mostly inspecting it for inconsistencies while Quentin loads up a plate.

He waves Margo over, asking her in hushed tones what the deal is with the pigs in a blanket. In a similarly composed, hushed tone, she explains that they "couldn't do" prosciutto-wrapped figs, and this was the best substitute given the timeframe.

"Stop complaining," Quentin says through a mouthful of food. "These are delicious," and without warning he feeds Eliot a pig in a blanket. After his initial surprise, Eliot chews thoughtfully, and concludes that there are worse substitutes they could have gone with. These are made with andouille sausage, apparently, and the sweet chili sauce is a nice touch. Even though prosciutto-wrapped figs would have been so much better.

As they sit down at the head table, a server sweeps by and drops off two of the custom cocktails Eliot had designed especially for the day. Eliot narrows his eyes at the glass in front of him, and after a small sip, he scoffs and tells Quentin he'll be right back, pressing a kiss to his temple.

Quentin frowns and starts to say something, but Eliot darts away to quickly correct the bartender on how to make their custom cocktail for the evening, _including_ the peach slice garnish. When he comes back with new drinks, barely two minutes later, Quentin is still frowning.

"Don't do that, you'll ruin the pictures," Eliot chides, poking at his lips.

"We're not going to want the pictures anyway if I'm the only one in them," Quentin says, pushing his fork around his plate. "I'm pretty sure this is just, like, one of those weird brain things, but... it kinda seems like you care more about this party than the reason for it."

"Q, hey, not at all," Eliot assures him, reaching for his free hand. Guilt creeps in on him when he imagines what must be going through Quentin's head. "It's the opposite, really. We got to be together, at the mosaic, and I loved that. You know I loved that, but we were so isolated there. After we got together back here, as part of our normal lives, I told myself that if we ever got to do this for real, I'd make it a night nobody we care about could ever forget."

Quentin's lips curl into a smile as he laces their fingers together. "I love that. But, El, don't you think it would be nice for it to be a night that _we_ can never forget, too? And not just because you mixed the perfect Quentin and Eliot cocktail?"

Eliot brings Quentin's hand up to his lips and presses a kiss there. "Don't worry. The night is still young. I'll try to be less distracted."

Of course, from that moment, they barely have any time to themselves. Everyone wants to talk to them, together and separately, and they don't get a chance to even hold hands again until it's time for speeches.

Julia's speech is sweet, but Margo's is the one that makes Eliot cry. He thanks the makeup gods for waterproof eyeliner as he dabs a napkin under his eyes, and Quentin presses a kiss to his temple.

Next, it's time for the first dance, and Eliot can feel the cocktail failing to settle his nerves. He definitely should've had another. Of course, despite his best attempts to hide it, Quentin picks up on it. "Okay, I'm nervous enough for the both of us," Quentin murmurs as Eliot leads him onto the dance floor, "since when do you care about dancing in front of people?"

"It's not that, and it's going to be fine," Eliot responds quietly as they face each other. "Trust me."

He takes a deep breath and lifts his hands, focusing on the circumstances—the real, actual circumstances of his _wedding reception_ to _Quentin Coldwater_ —and then works his fingers to pull together the illusion he's worked so hard on over the past weeks.

Quentin gasps, disbelieving, as around them the people fade away until the only background they can see looks just like their living room, right where they'd practiced this very same dance.

The music starts up, the opening notes of Iron and Wine's cover of "Time After Time" filling the space, and Quentin's mouth wobbles as it slides into a smile. "I take it they can still see us," he says as he moves toward Eliot.

Eliot takes his hand and begins to lead them in their over-practiced, easy sway. "They can, but feel free to imagine otherwise. Just you and me, swaying to the music."

Quentin's nerves seem to fade, his movements flowing with Eliot's easily as they hold onto each other. Eliot allows himself a moment to think about Quentin and what this day means. That they really get to spend the rest of their lives together.

With about a minute left in the song, Quentin looks up at him, tears in his eyes. "So when do you get _your_ big, unforgettable moment?"

"This whole thing is my big, unforgettable moment, baby. Also, what comes after our send-off," Eliot says, shooting him a wink. He has to remember that just because it _seems_ like they're in the privacy of their apartment doesn't mean they _are_ , so he probably shouldn't grope Quentin right now. "I can't believe you enforced the 'sleep separately' rule last night."

"It's bad luck!" Quentin reminds him. "Don't give me that look. I'm not superstitious; I just know better than to invite negative energy into something if I can help it."

Eliot smiles so wide he's showing teeth. This is his _husband_. He can hear the snap of their photographer taking pictures, but their private bubble of an apartment still holds. "I love you, you know."

"I had my suspicions," Quentin says, smiling back. "We're _married_ , El."

The giddiness in Quentin's voice threatens to bring tears back to Eliot's eyes. "Yeah."

As the song begins to fade out, Eliot slows them to a stop and presses down to capture Quentin's lips with his own. Around them, there's a chorus of _aww_ s and applause, and Eliot works his hands in the tut to dispel the illusion. Still, Eliot has eyes for nothing but Quentin— _Mr. Coldwater-Waugh_ —as they pull away.

Quentin presses a hand to the center of his chest as the next song starts up. "I love you so fucking much."

Eliot covers his hand with his own. "Likewise."

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love! <3 You can also find me on tumblr at [mixtapestar](http://mixtapestar.tumblr.com).


End file.
